Get Reel: Movies that made an impression

I don't know about you, but many of the films I saw growing up left a lasting impression, particularly in my teen years. I don't know why. Where's Sigmund Freud when you need him? I suppose even before I reached my teenage years I had become enamored with film. Big screen, junk food, what's not to love?

The first film I remember seeing was "It's Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World" (1963) when I was 7. I didn't know any of the cast members, with the exception of Three Stooges. Spencer Tracy, Ethel Merman, Milton Berle and Sid Caesar weren't exactly on my cinematic radar back then. What sticks with me instead is the visual of the crossed palm trees, sight of the buried treasure. I remember asking my parents afterward if they knew of any palm trees in town.

Just before I hit my teens, I saw "Romeo and Juliet" (1968), a film that opened up my tear ducts back then and still does today. Just start playing Nina Rota's theme music and I turn into blubber boy. I guess the movie resonated me with so deeply because Romeo and Juliet weren't much older than I was when they became star-crossed lovers, and the actors playing the leads, Leonard Whiting and Olivia Hussey, were near my age, too. What stuck with me here, however, was the power of words, that they could elicit such a strong reaction. Hey, this Shakespeare fellow can really write. Film may be a visual medium, but when you wed it with glorious words, the combination can become a revelation.

At 15, I began craving more mature material. The first R-rated film I saw was "The French Connection" (1971). Well, it wasn't technically my first. That's the film I wanted to see, but back then, double features existed, and the first film on the bill was "Pretty Maids All In a Row" and all I remember about this movie was that it contained a considerable amount of nudity. "This is the greatest movie ever!" I thought. "The French Connection," at first, didn't register, basically because it had only one nude scene. Once my hormones stopped raging, I realized what a superior film "The French Connection" was. I still don't understand the "pick your feet in Poughkeepsie" line, but I sure remember Gene Hackman's riveting performance as Popeye Doyle, and the visual of Fernando Ray's Alain Charnier smugly waving goodbye to Doyle on the subway still boils my blood. What do you mean, the bad guy gets away?

For a little back story, as I didn't have my driver's license yet and since these films required parent or guardian accompaniment for the under 17 set, I went to these movies with my father. He liked films, too. He just didn't read a lot of reviews so he didn't know always know what type of film we were seeing. I would, of course, take full advantage of this.

Page 2 of 4 - Case in point, "A Clockwork Orange" (1971). This was rated X at the time, prohibiting me from seeing it even with a parent and guardian, but my father either convinced the ticket person to let me in or the ticket person didn't care. When my father asked me what the movie was about as we were driving to the theater, I told him it was an action film. Not a complete lie, the film had action. It also had enough disturbing scenes in it to generate a week's worth of nightmares. The phallic sculpture confrontation was especially unsettling as it had little to do with art appreciation. The film demonstrated rather forcefully the wicked punch an image could pack.

Then there was "The Last Picture Show" (1971) - the first movie that sent me out of the theater so depressed that I wanted to ask the concessions person for Prozac with my popcorn. While I do remember lusting after Cybill Shepherd - oh, that swimming pool scene - leaving a more indelible mark on my psyche was the film's emotional roller-coaster run with stops not part of the picture. That the film was shot in black and white only reinforced its starkness.

For another uplifting movie, so to speak, I had Dad take me to "Last Tango In Paris" (1973). This was rated X, too, but again I got in somehow. I told my father that this film was a love story. Again, not a complete lie. Two images got permanently imprinted here. The first has Maria Schneider and Marlon Brando sitting nude on the floor in a rather provocative position. Then Schneider's character says something to Brando that can't be printed in a family newspaper. The second image involves butter. Say no more. I would have liked to have been a fly on the wall when my father tried to explain this film to my mother. I'm betting he just told her it was a love story. Here I learned that love really means never having to say you're sorry.

For the record, I didn't just go to R- and X-rated movies when I was a teen. I threw in a few PG-rated ones, too, and one of the best was "Cabaret" (1972). I had been a fan of movie musicals ever since Julie Andrews descended from the heavens in "Mary Poppins" (1964). I'm still annoyed she didn't get cast as Eliza Doolittle in the film version of "My Fair Lady" (1964), though it all turned out for the best. Andrews won an Oscar for "Poppins" and Marni Nixon got to dub Audrey Hepburn in "Lady." But I digress. "Cabaret" made its mark with me because it just didn't showcase great songs and great performances - thank you Liza Minnelli and Joel Grey - it dealt with serious subject matter in a serious way as Nazis began their infestation into Germany in the early 1930s. All the songs inside the cabaret reflect what's going on outside it. They weren't just entertaining filler. The line that remains lodged in my memory is spoken after the Nazi propaganda song "Tomorrow Belongs to Me" is sung by an Aryan poster boy and a crowd of Germans join him one by one in a Nazi salute. "You still think you can control them?" asks Michael York's Brian Roberts to Helmut Griem's Maximilian von Heuned.

Page 3 of 4 - Certainly the film that freaked me out the most in my teens was "The Exorcist" (1973). So many discomforting images. Yet two lines of dialogue made an impression, too. One can't be repeated in a family newspaper though it was satirized brilliantly on "Saturday Night Live" when a possessed Laraine Newman says to Richard Pryor's priest, "Your mother sews socks that smell." What really got to me though was when the possessed Regan, speaking in the voice of Father Karras' mother, asks, "Demi, why you do this to me?" The film forms the unholy trinity with "Rosemary's Baby" (1968) and "The Omen" (1976).

On the flip side, for the triple play of hilarity, I submit "Blazing Saddles" (1974), "Young Frankenstein" (1974) and "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" (1975). Too many great lines and memorable scenes to recount here. That said, to this day, I can't say Frau Blucher's name without whinnying afterward. The films also gave me an appreciation for comedies that pushed the envelope of good taste. They were also exceedingly clever. It's a trait most of today's gross-out comedies lack.

Finally, before I left my teens, I went to see "Jaws" (1975), not once, not twice, not three times. Actually, I lost track of how many times I went to see it, as I took vicarious pleasure in watching my friends react to frightening scenes that I knew were upcoming. Little did I know I was contributing to the film's monstrous box office receipts. It did make me realize what a talented director can do to scare the hell out of an audience even when working with a malfunctioning shark. That Steven Spielberg guy might have a career.

Now before readers question if my mind belonged in a teenage wasteland back then, I should point out that all of these 1970s films, with the exception of "Holy Grail," received Oscar nominations. In retrospect, my prurient sensibilities had taste. I also think I was fortunate to grow up during a time when directors could make films that didn't just think outside the box. They tore up the box. Those were the days, my friends.

Bad luck

It’s now time for TRIVIA.

Last month’s tester: This Oscar-winning screenwriter arrested in real life an award-winning filmmaker. Name the writer and the filmmaker.

Answer: Budd Schulberg, while assigned by the U.S. Navy to the Office of Strategic Services, was ordered to arrest German filmmaker Leni Riefenstahl at the end of World War II. Schulberg won an Oscar for best story and screenplay for "On the Waterfront (1954). Among Riefenstahl's awards was Best Foreign Documentary for "Triumph of the Will" (1935) at the Venice Film Festival.

No one answered the question correctly.

This month’s tester: In this popular movie, the minor character of a gambler was based on a real-life high roller who was stabbed to death 150 times. Name the movie and the high roller.

Page 4 of 4 - The first reader to answer the question correctly will receive a prize from Fruits & Passion.

Trivia enthusiasts can call me at 508-626-4409 or email me at rtremblay@wickedlocal.com. Make sure you leave your name, address and phone number on my message machine or email so I can contact you if you answered the question correctly. The address is needed so winners can be mailed their prize. Callers should spell out their names slowly and clearly so their names will be spelled correctly in the column.